The Train Park

Last week I had to take both kids to my yearly gynecological exam.  I thought that was pretty tough, especially since Lily cried through the entire appointment and then for most of the 45-minute drive home.  Looking back, though, that was cake compared to today.

Since Lily's birth I have been careful about what plans I commit to.  Since I never know how much sleep I am going to get any given night and I never know when Lily will be awake or hungry or asleep I have steered clear of making firm plans for anything, if at all possible.  So this morning when I felt rested and Lily was awake for the day at 7:30 I decided, "Hey, let's go to the train park!"  So we did.

Tommy has been sick for the past week, but I thought he was almost over it.  He still coughs a bit in the morning, but his nose isn't running much anymore.  I thought this week was going to be "normal".

We drove almost an hour to get to the train park.  Tommy was so excited he could hardly contain himself.  That boy loves trains.

We got to the park and it was everything I hoped it would be.  There were trains, trains, and more trains, a carousel, and a little train you could ride.  There were two separate parks and several picnic tables to eat at.  With lunch in tow, I planned to spend the entire morning and afternoon there.

We went into the museum first and looked at the little model trains.  Then we wandered around outside, rode the carousel, and got in line to ride the train around the park.  This is when things got tough.

I was carrying Lily in her Baby Bjorn carrier on my front with a backpack full of our necessities on my back.  And suddenly while we were standing in line Tommy started crying and holding up his arms for me to pick him up.  How can you resist that?  So I picked him up.  He squished Lily a little bit, but she didn't seem to mind much at first.  He cried as he said, "My ear hurts!" while he pressed his left ear against my shoulder.  Poor thing.  I knew he would be completely upset if we just left the park right then without riding the train, so we continued to stand in line.  Lily started to cry because she was getting squished and she was getting hungry.  Tommy continued to cry and press his ear into my shoulder.  I must have looked insane, holding two crying children in the line to ride the train.  We waited for at least 30 minutes (it was President's Day, and nobody told me).  Lily wanted food.  Tommy kept wailing over and over, "My ear hurts!"  I really don't know why I didn't just call it quits right there, except that I had invested an hour to drive to this cool park and I knew Tommy would never forgive me if we left before riding the train.  So we kept waiting.  And I laughed as I held back my own tears.

Our turn finally arrived to ride the train.  We got the seat that Tommy wanted, in a green flat car right next to a steering wheel.  I knew he was really feeling crummy when he didn't even crack a smile the entire ride.  And I knew I must have really looked ridiculous when nobody sat in front or behind us.  I laughed in spite of myself.  After the train ride I had to find somewhere to feed Lily.  Tommy said he wanted to play at the park.  So we went to the park and I sat on a bench and fed my baby while Tommy cuddled up next to me, pressed his ear into my shoulder, and cried.  I felt like crying, too.

I made an appointment with the doctor while we sat there.  I never knew an ear infection could be such an emergency situation.

Once Lily was fed we left the park.  Tommy cried the whole way out and kept alternating between saying, "I don't want you to do it," and, "I want you to do it."  I didn't know what he was talking about except that I knew he didn't feel well.  So I held him and soothingly whispered, "I know, Tommy," while I pushed Lily in the stroller.  Once we got to the car he settled on saying, "I want you to do it," over and over again while he cried.

He promptly fell asleep in the car.  Lily was calm for a few minutes and I thanked Heavenly Father for a few quiet moments before Lily got upset and woke Tommy up with her screaming.  Then they both cried for a few minutes, and then they took turns for most of the way home.  It took almost an hour to get home.

Once we got home it took me about three trips to get everything inside.  I sat Tommy on the couch with a movie while I got Lily and our bags inside.  They were both crying again.  Real tears.  Then came the best part of my day.  I grabbed Lily, sat down on the couch with Tommy, and we all snuggled and watched some Thomas the Tank Engine.  They both calmed down immediately.  My favorite part of being a mom is being able to comfort my children with my presence and my touch.  It was beautiful.

We went to the doctor this afternoon.  Lily pooped while we were there.  Lily only poops every 5-7 days, so when it comes it really comes.  When the doctor walked into the exam room he found me with a child in each arm.  Tommy was afraid of the doctor's latex gloves.  He had an ear infection, just as I suspected.

We got his medicine from the store.  We bought some ice cream from McDonald's.  We cooked a pizza for dinner.  I am exhausted.  Not the exhausted you get from staying up too late, or the exhausted you get from being on your feet too long.  It's the mind-numbing, body-collapsing, zombie kind of exhausted that only comes when you completely tap out all of your physical and emotional resources.  It's the kind of exhausted that kind of makes you feel satisfied, but makes you want to cry.  It's the kind of exhausted that has you crying one moment and laughing the next, and then crying again.

I've only reached this level of exhaustion a few times in my life, and it's always been on days like this.  Days when I gave all I had to comfort someone else and didn't resent the inconvenience of it.  Days when the needs of others have made me completely forget myself.  Days when I felt honored to attend to people I care about.  Days when I knew I received help from above to serve the people I love.  Like I said, it's only happened a few other times in my life that I can recall.  It happened when I was a missionary.  It happened when I lived with my dying grandmother.  And it's happened a few other times as a mother.  It's cleansing.  It's exhausting.  And it's an honor.